


the spirits of my past lives still follow me around

by forestdivinity (ForestDivinity)



Series: to my father i solemnly declare [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon typical drug use, Drug Use, Epistolary, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Letters, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27035563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForestDivinity/pseuds/forestdivinity
Summary: The first in a series of unsent letters, written from various Hargreeves siblings to the man they called their Father. First up it's Klaus, during one of his rehab stays, rambling and uncertain in places, full of a bitter anger.-What are ghosts but people stuck out of time? What am I but a body stuck out of its grave?You killed me, once, twice, a thousand times. How many minutes did I spend in that damn crypt? How many hours did you listen to me scream and scream and scream?  You always were a sadist - and not even the fun kind!Metaphor meet truth.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Reginald Hargreeves
Series: to my father i solemnly declare [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973146
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	the spirits of my past lives still follow me around

_Dear Daddy_

_What are ghosts but people stuck out of time? What am I but a body stuck out of its grave?_

_You killed me, once, twice, a thousand times. How many minutes did I spend in that damn crypt? How many hours did you listen to me scream and scream and scream?_ _You always were a sadist - and not even the fun kind!_

_Metaphor meet truth._

_They make us write letters in rehab - why depends on the shrink of the day but all the ones I’ve met seem to think writing out your thoughts will make them more coherent. I haven’t been coherent since I was four years old, ear drums blown out from the screaming._

_Hah, you believed me then! Before that, you thought I was as ordinary as Vanya. Worse even, because I wouldn’t stop crying. Least Vanya was quiet. Sure you hated her too, but least she rarely annoyed you. Not the way I did._

_Sorry! I’m a chronic pain in the ass._

_I’m not actually sorry._

_I want you to know I’m not sorry about any of the fucking stuff I did to piss you off. Wish I’d done more. Wrapped my fingers around your throat and squeezed maybe - wonder if that would have killed you. You always seemed so untouchable, Dad. What’s a little more murder in the family, anyway?_

_Fuck you, **fuck you. Why** was I never enough? _

_You shoved me in with the dead, maybe you just wanted me to join them. Sounds like a you thing. Got a screaming, sobbing, unruly child you can’t be bothered to deal with? Well, have I got just the thing for them, a crash course in their worst fears, woo! Great fucking plan, Daddy! That’s ironic, Bee-Tee-DoubleU._

_Wish you’d let me get into the medicine cabinet earlier. Not like I did anything to please you before that. I don’t think They ever realised._

_Man, I miss drugs. Rehab is like a crash course in trauma. There’s always like one Screamer lurking where you least expect it, Dad._

_Sometimes it’s me, you know. Sometimes I’m the screamer. Everyone is a fucking ghost here, I swear, we’re all stuck in this white walled little crypt, all dreaming of the same fucking pills. I’m like dreaming of ecstasy lately. I see those little babies every time I close my eyes, like they miss me too. Klaus, Klaus, Klaus, they call. Just like the ghosts._

_Ever think I was destined to be this? If there're ghosts around and boys with tentacle portals in their stomachs, then maybe destiny exists too? Does god exist then?_

_Maybe I’m a just fucking psychotic Daddy! Maybe I burst my own ear drums just to get you to look at me, ever think about that? Wouldn’t that be disappointing? I was always a disappointment to you, should have just gone to that little grave early. It might have been pitiable then, not just pathetic._

_I want heroin. I love her like a daughter, like a mother, like a wife. I always thought about being a wife, having a wife, but looks like it wasn’t in the plan, huh? Huh! It’s your fault! All of it!_

_I wish I’d never been born. Fucking miracle birth my ass._

_Funny, I wanted to get deep in this, but you just make me so mad and I’m disastrously sober. You never liked me sober, didn’t like me high either. Then again, maybe you just hated kids. Weirdo._

_I want the drugs now. I’m so tired and so angry. You ever feel like the walls are just closing in on you? Probably not, I doubt you’re claustrophobic. Honestly, you never seemed scared of anything, like you weren’t even human. Just some monocle wearing robot come to torment us all. Unfair comparison for robots really, Mom definitely tried her best._

_I am an imploding star, Dad. Nothing you can do to change that - **BEN!! STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER!**_

_I’ve been burning up since the day I was born._

_Lovecraft wrote “and with stranger aeons, even death may die” - he was a racist, piece of shit bastard, but I’m waiting for it to come true. Maybe then I’d get some fucking peace. Wouldn’t that be fantastic?  
_

_All I ever wanted in life was peace, Dad! Why d'you have to go and leave me to the screaming. Sometimes I don’t know if I ever got free? What if this is all some strange fever dream, the last moments of an addled mind? What a nightmare to dream up as you die. Maybe I’m just in Hell - this life is certainly an eternal torture._

_Seems too easy though, doesn’t it?_

_I bet the Devil is like, a cowboy. Everyone depicts him as some big, red, fork-tailed thing, but I think a cowboy would be funny. Unexpected. And you would hate it, which only makes it better, you know? Recently I’ve been asking myself “would Dad hate this?” and if the answer is yes, I do it. Wrote a whole ass soliloquy on cock a few weeks back. I was so fucking high. Thought I’d be the next Shakespeare or something._

_Turns out I just waffled about dick cheese for three pages._

_Eh._

_You’d still hate it, so I count it as a win._

_Daddy, I have officially lost the fucking plot of this letter. I blame Ben; he keeps trying to read over my shoulder, you should tell him to leave me alone. Not that he’d listen to you! Like any of us bar, Luther listened to you in the end. I think it would have been a better world if we’d all run away like Five, but alas, it was not the case._

_What was even the point of this?_

_Oh yeah. I hate you. You fucked me up.You left me to rot and die in that crypt and I haven’t been alive ever since. It’s funny, you can go through life as a ghost and no one ever notices._

_I hope one day, when you die, I get to piss on your ashes. It would be a fucking fitting end._

_Fuck you._

_Klaus Hargreeves._

* * *

The letter never gets sent. For three weeks and a day it sits in the bottom of his coat pocket until Klaus forgets he’d ever written it in the first place. He gets high, beautifully, soaringly high and uses the paper to roll joints when he runs out of skins. 

A fitting end. Gone in the wind.

Klaus laughs when he realises, fingers itching for another hit. Time to move on. Not like it would have made a difference anyhow.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and Kudos if you like!! You can follow me on [@ashayathyla2](https://ashayathyla2.tumblr.com/) or join my [Discord](https://discord.gg/NCxhZY9) for TUA discussions!


End file.
